Were every hair upon his head a life, And every life were to be supplicated By numbers equal to those hairs quadrupled, Life after life should out like waning stars Before the daybreak--or as festive lamps, Which have lent lustre to the midnight revel, Each after each are quench'd when guests depart! OLD PLAY The entrance of Queen Berengaria into the interior of Richard's pavilion was withstood--in the most respectful and reverential manner indeed, but still withstood--by the chamberlains who watched in the outer tent.

She could hear the stern command of the King from within, prohibiting their entrance.
"You see," said the Queen, appealing to Edith, as if she had exhausted all means of intercession in her power; "I knew it--the King will not receive us." At the same time, they heard Richard speak to some one within:--"Go, speed thine office quickly, sirrah, for in that consists thy mercy--ten byzants if thou dealest on him at one blow.

And hark thee, villain, observe if his cheek loses colour, or his eye falters; mark me the smallest twitch of the features, or wink of the eyelid.

I love to know how brave souls meet death." "If he sees my blade waved aloft without shrinking, he is the first ever did so," answered a harsh, deep voice, which a sense of unusual awe had softened into a sound much lower than its usual coarse tones.
Edith could remain silent no longer.

"If your Grace," she said to the Queen, "make not your own way, I make it for you; or if not for your Majesty, for myself at least .-- Chamberlain, the Queen demands to see King Richard--the wife to speak with her husband." "Noble lady," said the officer, lowering his wand of office, "it grieves me to gainsay you, but his Majesty is busied on matters of life and death." "And we seek also to speak with him on matters of life and death," said Edith.